


Angel

by Hisa_Ai



Series: 31 Days of Christmas [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 31 Days of fic, Christmas, Christmas prompts, Day 7, Dreams, M/M, Prompt Fic, Yule, angel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 23:57:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hisa_Ai/pseuds/Hisa_Ai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur has an odd dream one night—one he believes a sorcerer had a hand in—and he can't quite shake the feeling that he knows the person in it, the one hidden just from his view that makes him feel safe and at home with their words and their touches and their kisses...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel

* * *

 

Arthur didn't dream much anymore—not since he was a child had he dreamt every night. But when he  _did_  dream, on those rare occasions, they were usually the most vivid and beautiful things he had ever known of. Amazing things happened in them: sometimes he relived the best moments of his life, sometimes he lived out his hearts desires, sometimes he dreamed of knights and friends that had passed on—the usual sort of dreams people had, he supposed, but for him they were rare and therefore that much more magnificent.

He was surprised, then, when he found himself dreaming of—and he usually  _did_  know that he was dreaming—his room, of himself, sitting on his bed under his covers. He was perplexed, wondering what he was waiting for, what he was doing, why he was just  _sitting_  there.

A moment later, his door swung open and someone walked in, their face and most of their body obscured by a bright light that was white hot and consumed the air and Arthur's whole being when they approached him and sat down on the edge of his bed. He felt unnerved yet somehow at peace. They reached out and put their hand on his and he decided that he might be starting to like this dream—or rather, how calm it was, how different it was from his usual dreams of fallen brothers and old memories.

Suddenly they started talking about nothing in particular, their voice familiar yet the name attached to it somehow eluding him. It was gentle and teasing and felt like  _home_ ; even though he got the feeling that whoever it belonged to didn't want him to find out their identity—it was just a dream though, so how did that make any sense?—he couldn't seem to help searching his mind for it, combing through memories and people he knew to see who it might belong to. He needed to know who this was, who he was dreaming of like this.

The person took his hand in theirs then and gave it a squeeze, the light making him feel melancholy with the sensation.

"Don't try to figure it out, Arthur," The voice said, a chuckle laced through the words.

"But  _who_  are you?" he asked, unsure of how they knew what he was doing, what he was thinking and trying to figure out.

"It doesn't matter," They said gently.

"Yes it does. I don't know why, but… it  _does_. You feel  _important_." Arthur said, frustrated. The person shook their head, took his hand between both of theirs and kissed it somewhere beyond all the light, setting his body on fire with the most pleasant sensation ever.

"I am no more important than you need me to be." They mumbled against his skin. He swallowed, his head fuzzy. Whether it was from the bright light, everything they were making him feel, or just the dream itself, he wasn't quite sure.

"What does that _mean?_ " he asked. The figure seemed to shrug—not that he could see it or most of the things it was doing, more like he could  _sense_  it. He just knew intuitively what it was doing, what it was feeling, what it wanted him to know. He was sure they would be able to have the conversation without words, but then he wouldn't have such a chance to place the voice to a name. Which he still seemed to be unable to do.

"Whatever you want it to mean."

"That's extremely vague and frustrating." Arthur groaned. The person just laughed again—was it a laugh? The light seemed to almost glitter in a way that expressed amusement and humor, at least—and brought his hand down to rest between them on the bed.

The person, the figure, sat patiently then, waiting for Arthur to say or do something, it seemed, but Arthur didn't know what they wanted of him. Was he supposed to ask questions or tell them something or—or  _something?_

"Are you an angel?" he blurted then, not knowing where the question had come from. The figure didn't have wings or anything of the sort, but it seemed… heavenly, angelic, in a way. It might have just been the light, though, that everyone, Arthur included, associated with Heaven, or it might have been the way they seemed to communicate, how they could make him feel things he wouldn't normally feel in dreams. Or maybe it just was the way they  _were._

The figure seemed to look through him, to his very soul, as they said, "If you want me to be."

"And if I don't?"

They shrugged again. "Then I'm not."

"Are you going to tell me anything  _useful?"_ Arthur demanded, a surge of annoyance cutting through the calm.

The person sat, thinking, for a moment. "What do you want to know?"

"Who are you? What do you want? Do I know you? It feels like we've met before."

"We have." They nodded slowly. "I… look out for you, protect you, even love you sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" Arthur swallowed, not quite understanding.

"You don't make it easy enough to love you  _all_ the time," they chuckled. The light surrounding them began to flicker then, almost fading enough for Arthur to make out their silhouette before they stood, throwing his hand down and coming to stand just next to him. "I shouldn't have taken over your dream like this, I'm sorry. I just…" They shook their head. "I need to go." They said, their tone urgent.

Arthur swallowed, feeling over-whelmed with the prospect of them—whoever the  _hell_  they were—leaving all of a sudden. He had more questions about who they were, what they wanted, how they knew him, how they were there, why they were there, why they were talking in riddles, and things of the such.

But, more than that, he knew that when they left, the dream would change, their all-too-real feelings would leave, and whatever else he dreamed in the night would pale in comparison.

He didn't want them to leave him.

"Don't go." He whispered, grabbing their hand. They smiled, shook out of Arthur's grip, then leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, making him shut his eyes against the dimming light. And it felt  _right_  and  _natural_  when they kissed him, like they were somehow meant for him. He didn't want them to  _stop_ , but when they did, they pulled back and left him feeling cold and alone and wanting more.

"You  _will_  see me again." They promised quietly.

"When?"

"In your waking hours. You see me every day, but…"

"But?"

"But you won't remember what it will mean to see me. You won't remember this dream. You never do."

"There have been others?" Arthur demanded, wracking his dream-brain for anything else he had ever experienced or dreamt that had been anything like this, but he couldn't seem to call any forward. Then again, the maybe-an-angel had said he never remembered them anyway.

"Many." They nodded.

"Can you… can you let me remember this time? Do you have that kind of power?" Power, Arthur realized then, that let you into someone's dream, let you interact with them, hide you from their mind's eye, erase whole memories of the dreams, had to be strong. Probably sorcery— _definitely_  sorcery.

But he didn't  _care_. This person, this figure, angel, whatever they were, they were…  _kind._  They made him feel safe and at home and loved. That couldn't possibly be something that was  _bad_.

"I do, I can, but…" They shrugged again, the light around them that was blocking them from Arthur's view, dimming just a little bit more.

"So do it." Arthur urged. "Let me remember. Let me… let me know— _tell me_ why you're so important to me." He insisted.

"I can't do that. You have to figure it out for yourself, why you think I'm so important. Which you don't. Not when you're awake, at least."

"Then I'm an idiot." Arthur said. The person laughed, not disagreeing with him.

"I'd say more along the lines of dollophead, but idiot works too."

Arthur's mouth fell open slightly.

_Dollophead_.

Now that— _that_  sounded  _so_  familiar. He had heard it so many times, but from who? He was beginning to hate this figure, this person, for aggravating and frustrating him so. No way they were an angel, he realized then, because there was  _no way_  angels were such clotpoles.

"I need to go now." They said at last, walking back to the door despite Arthur's protests. They walked through it and it slammed shut behind them, the room melting away with their light.

He was left cold and alone again for a moment— _barely_  half a second—and then his dream changed to that of a battle he'd fought long ago that was dull and  _truly_  felt like a dream when compared to the vivid experience he'd just had.

When Merlin came in to wake him up in the morning, he groaned against the too bright light coming in from the window and rolled over in his bed to avoid the brightness for as long as he could manage.

_The light._

He remembered then, the dream he'd had with so much clarity it almost hurt when he recalled the light the person, being,  _whatever_ , had been surrounded by, that had blocked them from his vision.

He bolted upright in his bed, stared at his door for a long moment, recalling the whole dream as Merlin flittered about the room, seemingly oblivious to his pensive silence until he came and stood next to his bed, hands crossed in front of him as he asked, "Sire? Is everything all right?"

Arthur looked at him, pursed his lips for a moment.

_Dollophead_.

"I think so," he nodded slowly. "But I had the strangest dream last night—anything you'd like to _share_ ,  _Mer_ lin?"

Merlin just shook his head, his smile barely contained as Arthur yanked him down onto the bed and rolled them over, pinning Merlin down as he let out a sound of surprise. It seemed Arthur was going to get the answers to those questions of his after all.

 

 

* * *

 


End file.
